


all you gotta do is smile at me and down I go

by Shadowcrawler



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cheerleaders, F/F, F/M, Family Dinners, First Dates, Football, Gen, Homecoming, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Slow Burn, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-12 15:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7110442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowcrawler/pseuds/Shadowcrawler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has a crush on a cheerleader, so obviously the logical thing to do is to try out for the football team, and make his best friend try out for the cheerleading squad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tony-lattimer](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=tony-lattimer).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Cass/tony-lattimer! I hope you enjoy it. <3
> 
> Disclaimers: I don't usually write boyslash or Stucky, though I'm benevolently indifferent to both as concepts. The Nat/Maria was basically added in as an attempt to not go too off-brand when the original idea was "Bucky is a cheerleader and Steve joins the football team to impress him." I also fudged basically all of the bits about football and cheerleading, since my high school was so small it didn't have either of those teams, and it's possible I've made some glaring mistakes. Be gentle, please?
> 
> Also, Natasha's supposed to be Fury's foster kid, and it's possible I fucked up somehow in regards to that, so, uh, heads-up.

“Christ, Rogers,” groans Natasha, taking a sip of her Red Bull. “take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Steve glances away from the _very_ toned ass of one James “Bucky” Barnes to roll his eyes at her. “Yeah, because that’s not creepy or anything.”

“And staring _isn’t_?”

He sighs. “Whatever. I saw the way you were looking at Maria when we were at Kelly Sue’s last week.”

“How exactly was that?” She’s using her casual tone, which means she’s feeling anything but casual.

“Well, I’d say pining, but you don’t do that, right?” Steve grins. “The badass Black Widow would never, ever be caught pining for anybody.”

“Shut the fuck up.” She shoves his shoulder playfully. “I could kill Dottie for that nickname.”

“Hey, you’re the one who decided to sleep with the unstable clingy girl in freshman year and then dump her, not me. Should’ve listened to me that time.” Steve goes back to watching Bucky toss Pepper Potts high in the air.

Natasha groans. “We’re not even talking about this right now, we’re talking about you and Barnes. Are you ever going to actually talk to him instead of just staring like a creep? Because we’re going on a year of this and it’s getting weird, Steve.”

“I don’t even know him. How’s that conversation gonna start? ‘Hey, seen you tossing people around during games, nice ass, you’re really flexible’?” Steve scoffs. “I don’t even know if he’s into guys.”

“Angie says she’s pretty sure he is. She says she saw him definitely hitting on some guy in the lunchroom last year.”

“Oh yeah? Who?” Steve says, too casually.

Natasha smirks. “She was trying to figure it out, but she tripped on her way by and her lunch tray went flying. Bucky helped her up, but the other guy left before she got a look at him.”

“So I’m guessing she won’t be moonlighting as a PI anytime soon,” says Steve with a grin.

“Don’t change the subject, Rogers. Point is, you should go for it.”

Steve shrugs and replies, “I dunno, I don’t wanna assume anything. Besides, I’m easily half his size, what would he possibly want with me?” He makes a face like he’s trying not to look sad.

“Some guys are into that,” says Natasha with a smirk, but when Steve just looks sadder she adds, “Hey, none of that. You’re a total catch, all right? You’re all noble and good-hearted and shit, and you’re the next da Vinci or something. Hell, _I’d_ date you if I was into dudes.”

“No you wouldn’t,” Steve says, but he’s smiling again.

“Okay, you’ve got me there. But seriously, Steve. Just ask him out. The worst he can do is say no and then we’ll shit-talk him like you did for me with Dottie.”

“And that’s true friendship,” snarks Steve, but then he’s quiet.

Until, that is, he says, “I could try out for the football team.”

Natasha chokes on her drink. “I’m _sorry_?”

“I said, I could try out for the football team.” Steve shrugs. “Then we’d have something to talk about.”

Natasha is laughing too hard to hear him. “Pull the other one,” she says once she’s composed herself, wiping tears from her eyes. “You’re not serious.”

“No, I am. I’m gonna do it.”

“You’re gonna die,” she replies. “You have _seen_ the football team, haven’t you? You sure you don’t wanna try out for the cheerleading squad instead?”

“Yes, I’ve seen them. I’m fast, you forget. And football players don’t _all_ need to be built like a brick shithouse,” Steve points out. “The worst they can do is tell me to fuck off.”

“Or tackle you and leave you a red-white-and-blue smear on the field,” Natasha points out with a grin.

Steve rolls his eyes and runs his hand self-consciously over the American flag-patterned shirt he’s wearing. “I _told_ you, I forgot to do laundry and this was the only clean shirt left. Ma got it for my last birthday, thinks she’s hilarious.”

“Yeah, yeah, patriot man,” teases Natasha. “Do you even know when football tryouts are?”

“Yeah, they’re next week. We got an email about it.” Steve smirks. “Y’know, _you_ could try out for the cheerleading squad.”

“Now I know you’ve lost it.”

“No, really, think about it. It would show the state that you’re - what’s the word they use, acclimatizing? Acclimatizing to life with Fury. Plus, you know they put the sports teams and cheerleaders on the same bus, so you’d get to hang out with Maria, probably.”

Natasha smirks. “ _And_ I’d get to talk to a certain someone’s crush, too. I’m sure that has nothing to do with your suggestion.”

“Not a bit,” he replies cheerfully. “You know you could, you did harder shit in your sleep as a ballerina.”

She bristles, but shrugs it off. “You really think they’d let me get anywhere near tryouts? I get the feeling ‘leather jacket hard femme’ isn’t exactly the look they’re going for.”

Cheerleading practice ends, and Steve stands up and stretches. “Never know until you try,” he chirps, turning to leave.

\---

Steve strides out onto the football field with the confidence of a man who’s a foot taller.

This happens to be something he’s very good at, because at five foot five, he’s not exactly a powerhouse. He’s aware of that. But he makes up for it by being, as Natasha so colorfully puts it, “a fearless dipshit” and throwing himself one hundred percent into anything physical. He’s a hell of a runner and he’s better at scrapping than he looks. (Not that he’s tried to fight anybody in a while, because Ma doesn’t like it, even if he did mostly only do it in defense of others.) So he figures maybe that’ll score him some points, even if he doesn’t look like the typical football player.

He’s a little less confident when he sees how many people are trying out, and who they are.

Jack Thompson, a junior who’s only been at the school a year and already established himself as a grade-A pain in the ass, says, “Well, if it isn’t Shrimp Rogers.”

Steve sighs. “That’s not even a clever nickname, Thompson.” But several other guys are laughing, so apparently it is.

“What are you even doing here?” scoffs Brock Rumlow, who’s not even that much taller and bigger than Steve. “I would’ve thought you’d be trying out for the cheerleading team or something. Hell, they could throw you, you’re light enough.”

“Ha ha,” Steve mutters. “I have as much right to be here as any of you.”

“Yeah, lighten up on him,” says another voice, and Steve turns to see quarterback Sam Wilson walking towards them. “He can try out, same as the rest of you. Everybody gets the same shot.”

Steve smiles gratefully at him. Sam’s not someone he’s spoken to a lot, but he’s the opposite of an asshole quarterback and has a reputation for being a standup guy in every respect. “Hey. We’ve probably met before.”

Sam grins. “Rogers, right? I’ve seen your drawings in the art room. You’re damn good.”

“I dabble,” says Steve with a shrug. “Thought I’d branch out.”

“Well, glad to have you.” Sam turns to the others. “Okay, everybody huddle up, we’re gonna get started.”

It doesn’t go _that_ badly, Steve thinks. He catches Coach Phillips watching him with a vaguely displeased look on his face, but the coach always seems to have that look on his face, so maybe it doesn’t mean anything. The older man standing next to him, who looks oddly out of place on a football field (wearing a suit jacket and owlish glasses), is smiling thoughtfully.

Finally, after a couple hours of drills and a mock setup game, they’re dismissed. “We’ll call you by Sunday afternoon if you’re in,” says Phillips curtly. The older man is still watching Steve with that same thoughtful expression.

\---

Natasha glances around at the pack of girls around her, most of whom are chattering excitedly, and wishes her best friend was someone who wasn’t quite so persuasive.

Steve _owes_ her big time.

Not only has she been forced to ask Fury to sign about 25 thousand forms for this (which he did, straight-faced all the while, but she can tell he’s mentally laughing), but she also had to have $150 for the uniform and shit all ready. That’s $150 she could have spent on literally anything else.

Well, at least she’s gotten _really good_ at faking enthusiasm. They’ve had her doing cheers and exercises for hours every morning, all week. It’s insipid, but at lot of the basic moves are similar to the stuff she knew when she danced. That’s giving her a distinct advantage over the girls who are clearly not athletically inclined.

“Alright,” calls Pepper, who has stood up from her seated position behind a table at the other side of the gym, “welcome to cheerleading tryouts, everyone. As you know, Victoria and I are co-captains of this squad, and we will be overseeing tryouts alongside Ms. Weaver.” With a nod at Ms. Weaver, the faculty advisor, she continues, “First we’ll be having you take a two-minute warm-up run, so go ahead.”

As it turns out, actual cheerleading tryouts is even more boring than the dumb morning clinics. Natasha busies herself with watching her fellow aspiring cheerleaders, most of whom seem...well. Earnest and passionate, but scattered. She doesn’t envy Pepper and Victoria, the latter of whom has notoriously high standards, their job.

Finally, they call her name, and she pastes on a smile and does the cheer she’s been taught, completely faking her enthusiasm. When she’s done, Pepper smiles at her (it’s only a little patronizing, which Natasha counts as a win) and says, “Look, I don’t want to be rude, but could you smile a bit more?”

Natasha’s response to this is to grin like a fucking shark.

Pepper’s eyes widen. “Well, okay. That’ll, um, that’ll do, thank you. We’ll let you know tomorrow whether you’ve been accepted or not.”

There’s a burst of laughter from off to the side, and Natasha glances over to see Bucky Barnes himself trying to stifle his laughter as he leans against the gym wall. He definitely hasn’t been there the whole time, but rather than being annoyed at his watching her without her knowing, she’s impressed. Plus, he clearly finds this whole red tape bullshit as ridiculous as she does.

She strides off, blissfully indifferent to it all, and finds herself wandering over in his direction. “Barnes, right?”

“That’s me,” he says with a smirk. “And you are…?”

“Natasha Romanov. You may know me as ‘that weird dyke who wears the leather jacket all the time.’ Or ‘that punk who doesn’t look like she belongs at cheerleading tryouts at all.’”

“So then what are you doing here?”

She _could_ answer this truthfully, but she decides to have some fun instead. “Well,” she says, letting her voice go serious for a moment, “it’s pretty dumb, but I mean...my mom, she was a cheerleader, you know? Varsity captain, all that jazz. She kept all her trophies from high school. She used to say that she was happiest when she was cheering...and then…” She wibbles her lip. “After the accident...I just...I dunno, I thought maybe this could be a way to remember her, you know?”

“Oh my god,” he says, looking horrified. She keeps looking at him sadly for a little while, waiting for him to put the pieces together. It takes him a minute, but then he says, “Wait a goddamn minute. They ran a profile on you in the school paper last year. You never _knew_ your parents! You grew up in foster care!”

She bursts out laughing at that. “Congratulations, you’ve passed the test,” she says with a smirk.

“That is so fucked up,” he replies, but he’s grinning. “Do you do that to everybody?”

Natasha shrugs. “Only the people who I think might get the joke. It’s a compliment.”

“Well, uh, thanks?” Bucky laughs like he’s not sure how to handle that. “So then, why are you _really_ here?”

“I dunno. My friend dared me. He’s very persuasive. Most of his persuasion involved the girls’ soccer team.”

“Oh, well, that is a pretty good argument,” he teases. “Should I go warn Isabelle that the Black Widow’s got her eye on her girls and she better lock ‘em down?”

“You do and I’ll kick your ass,” replies Natasha, bringing back that shark smile. “Rumors of my romantic escapades have been greatly exaggerated.”

“Oh, I figured. Dottie’s a drama queen.” Bucky grins. “I’ll put in a good word for you with Pepper, Romanov. You say fucked up shit, but I like the cut of your jib.”

“Jesus christ, Grandpa,” she says with a laugh, “did you really just say that? You sure you didn’t time travel here or something?”

Bucky laughs too, shaking his head. “Not last I checked. See you later.”

\---

Late Sunday afternoon, Natasha’s pretending she doesn’t have homework to finish when her phone starts blaring “Born in the USA,” which is Steve’s ringtone. “Hey,” she says. “You make the team?”

“As relief, yeah. You?”

“Apparently they were willing to look past my barely hidden disdain and lack of charm.”

“Oh, they’re gonna be sorry,” teases Steve.

“You okay with being relief?”

He sighs. “Yeah. Ma pointed out that it’s probably the best for me, all things considered. And hey, I might end up playing a couple games.” He sounds more cheerful when he asks, “So, you get to talk to any of the squad?”

Natasha chuckles. “Don’t beat around the bush, Rogers, you want to know if I talked to Bucky.”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“As a matter of fact, I did. _And_ he’s pretty cool. Doesn’t seem to have bought into all the spirit bullshit, and he’s mouthy as fuck. But not mean or anything. I like him.”

Steve laughs. “I’m so glad you _approve_ of my choice.”

“Hey, don’t you know I have final say in all your paramours?” teases Natasha. “So, yeah, I guess we start practice tomorrow or whatever. Yay for me.”

“Oh, c’mon, it’ll be fun! We’re putting ourselves out there, making new friends, learning new skills.”

“You sound like the worst after school special.”

“It’s a gift,” he replies. “So, you didn’t...did you mention me to him at all?”

“As a matter of fact, I did, in passing. I said my friend put me up to it. He seemed to think that was pretty funny.”

“Oh. Good.” Steve sounds unsure. “I think?”

“Don’t sweat it, I’ll introduce you,” Natasha teases. “We can all go for burgers after practice or something.”

“Sure you don’t mind being the awkward third?”

She smirks. “Steve, have you ever seen me awkward?”

“Good point.”


	2. Chapter 2

Steve’s first day of football practice goes about as he’d expected.

That is, he survives through sheer willpower.

It’s not that he’s not in shape, because he is, sort of. He runs, anyway. Having been a sickly kid means that exercise is sometimes challenging. And he might look small but he knows he’s damn fast, which seems to impress even the ever-skeptical Coach Phillips. It’s his speed that keeps him out of getting “accidentally” trampled once when they’re running laps and Rumlow and Thompson, who are running behind him, trip.

He’s been waiting for something like that to happen, so he puts on a burst of speed when he hears Rumlow fake-shout in surprise. Glancing over his shoulder a second later, he sees the two of them sprawled on the grass, grumbling. He can’t help but laugh.

Then he hears someone else laugh too and Peggy Carter, the lone girl on the team, jogs up next to him. “Brutes,” she scoffs. “Serves them right.”

“I saw it coming,” gasps Steve. “Good ears.”

“Very nice,” she says with a grin. They don’t talk again until the ten-minute break an hour later, and then she strides over to say, “Peggy. Though I suspect you already know of me.”

“Of course, you’re a minor celebrity,” he teases. “Successfully campaigned for girls to be allowed on the all-boys football team, that’s quite a feat.”

She rolls her eyes playfully. “It was an absurd rule. I merely wanted to be given a chance to prove myself.”

“I can relate to that.”

“Yes,” she says, looking him over with a smile. “I imagine you can. Anyhow, good to have you on the team, Steve. Angie’s spoken highly of you.”

“Oh, you mean because of _Oklahoma!_?” he asks with a laugh. Natasha still hasn’t let him live that down, even though he was only supposed to be the understudy and not actually in the thing. “I was just filling in, really.”

“The way she tells it, you swooped in like the metaphorical superhero and salvaged the entire production,” Peggy replies. “And my love is not a reserved person by any definition of the word, but I do tend to trust her judgment on people.”

“Well, tell her thanks. And it’s nice to meet you properly, Peggy,” he says, grinning. “Are they always like that?” He nods at Thompson and Rumlow, who are muttering to each other about something.

“Rumlow’s an arse. I imagine Thompson will just egg him on.” She sighs. “But we’re not all that bad, of course. You’ve met Sam, he’s lovely. Gabe and Dum-Dum are perfectly nice also.” She nods at a burly pair who are horsing around.

“Dum-Dum?”

“Apparently preferable to his actual name,” she explains with a shrug. “I haven’t pressed him on it.”

“Okay,” he says. “Noted.”

She seems about to say something else, but Phillips yells at them to get back in formation,so they do. Steve’s smiling, though. At least not _everyone_ on the team has it out for him.

\---

Since cheerleading practice both starts and finishes an hour before football practice, Natasha casually waits outside the boys’ locker room for Bucky to emerge before asking, “Hey, you wanna come with me while I wait for football to get out?”

“Sure,” says Bucky. “Though I wouldn’t have thought you’d go for big muscly dudes. Or - wait. You’re into Peggy Carter, right? You know Angie’s gonna flip shit over that.”

“Shut up,” she says cheerfully. “I’m waiting for my friend Steve. You know, the Steve that put me up to this cheerleading shit.”

“Oh, _that_ Steve,” he says, nodding mock-seriously. “Uh huh.”

“We’re going out for burgers, if you wanna come.”

“Y’know what, why not. I’m already smelly and unappealing.” He grins.

“I’m pretty sure there are at least two dozen people who would beg to differ, Barnes.”

“Two _dozen_? Shit, where are you hiding these people? And why haven’t they come forward?”

“Too intimidated by your blinding hotness, obviously,” she says with a roll of her eyes.

They make their way over to the football field, where the team is currently doing sprinting exercises. “That’s him,” says Natasha, nodding as Steve’s comically small form darts to the front of the pack. “I’m surprised he’s still in one piece.”

“Jesus,” says Bucky. “At least he’s fast.”

“Yeah, he’s always been fast. His mom says that’s ‘cause he used to have to run away from fights.” Natasha smirks. “Not always defending himself, either. He doesn’t like bullies.”

Bucky makes a noise in his throat, like he’s thinking. “I see.” He’s pretty blatantly staring at Steve’s ass, which Natasha can admit is objectively nice.

Natasha notices this, of course, and says, “He’s a good guy. I keep telling him he needs to find a high school sweetheart though. It’s the American way.”

Bucky swallows. “He’s not seeing anyone?”

“Nope,” says Natasha, popping the P. “You want me to put in a good word for you, Barnes?”

Bucky runs a hand through his shoulder-length hair. “I don’t wanna be weird,” he mumbles. “I don’t even know the guy.”

“Well, you’ll know get to know him when we go out for burgers,” Natasha points out. “He’s cool, even if he does a lot of dumb shit.”

That makes Bucky laugh. “Well, I do a lot of dumb shit too, so that’s okay.”

They banter back and forth until practice is over, and Steve staggers over in their general direction. “Well,” he gasps, wiping what looks like a tidal wave of sweat off his forehead, “that was certainly...interesting.”

“You’ve looked better,” says Natasha, smirking.

Bucky clearly doesn’t agree, because he’s full-on ogling Steve. “Hey,” he says after an awkward moment of silence. “I’m, um, I’m Bucky.”

Steve seems to focus on Bucky for the first time, and as far as Natasha can tell, just barely avoids making an embarrassing noise. “Hi,” he chokes out. “I’m Steve. Um, I’ve, uh, seen you around?”

“Yeah, I’m on the squad with her,” says Bucky, gesturing awkwardly to Natasha. “She says you guys were gonna go out for burgers?”

“Yeah,” says Steve. “That’s the plan. You’re, uh, you’re welcome to come if you want.”

“He wants,” replies Natasha with a grin. “C’mon, Rogers, hit the showers.”

“What’s going on?” calls another voice, and Sam Wilson ambles up, grinning. “Did I hear something about burgers?”

Steve grins back. “Yeah, my friend and I were gonna go to Kelly Sue’s. You wanna tag along, Sam? This is Sam, by the way,” he adds, probably unnecessarily.

“Hey.” Natasha nods a greeting, and Bucky waves.

“Hey, Barnes, haven’t seen you since the championships last year,” Sam says. “Still flying through the air with the greatest of ease?”

Bucky laughs. “They’d never let me fly, you know that, Wilson. And you’re still herding meatheads, I see.”

“You know it.” Sam pulls out his phone, then glances at Steve. “You care if I invite my girl?”

“Go right ahead.” Steve is also pulling out his phone.

“What are you doing, Rogers?” Natasha asks, narrowing her eyes.

“Nothing,” Steve says innocently, heading for the locker room.

\---

Kelly Sue’s is their favorite hangout, a local burger-and-fries joint that’s been there since before any of them were born. The food is dirt cheap but amazingly good for diner food. The five of them crowd into a booth, Sam and his girlfriend Sharon sitting together and Natasha herding Bucky and Steve into the other side of the booth, sliding in to trap them inside with an evil smile.

Steve glares over at her but before he can comment, the waitress comes to take their order. After they request a frankly absurd amount of food, Natasha glances at Sharon and says, “You’re in volleyball, right? And we had chem together last year?”

Sharon nods. “I remember everybody was kind of afraid of you. Nobody wanted to be your partner. I mean, I didn’t care, but…”

Natasha grins and rolls her eyes. “I’m not that scary. But I can see why you might be, with my... _reputation_.”

“That’s our Nat,” says Steve cheerfully, “a ladykiller.”

“If I could go back in time and undo one goddamn thing, it would be sleeping with Dottie Underwood,” sighs Natasha. “The sex was so not worth that stupid nickname.”

“For what it’s worth, I never believed it,” chimes in Sam. “Everyone knows Dottie lives for drama. Besides, you haven’t dated _anybody_ since then, right?”

“Not officially. Too much fucking trouble.”

Steve nudges her. “Although, there _is_ somebody who’s caught the Widow’s eye lately.”

“ _Shut up,_ ” hisses Natasha, but Bucky’s already grinning.

“Who is it, who is it?” he asks in a singsong voice.

“You will regret this, Rogers,” she mutters.

“And speaking of,” Steve replies, nodding towards the door. The door which has just closed to let in Maria Hill.

Natasha’s eyes flash with something that might be murder, but before she can react Steve waves and calls, “Hey, Maria, over here!”

Maria, dressed in a Patti Smith shirt and grinning, saunters over.to their table. “‘Sup, Steve.”

“Hey. Thought you might wanna join us.”

“You thought right. Mind if I pull up a chair?” She grabs one from a nearby table, putting it next to Natasha, who looks more than a little startled. “I hear you made the football team.”

Steve nods. “Just relief, but still. Coach says at least I’m faster than a rabbit with its ass on fire.”

“You’ll have to watch him,” says Maria, turning to Sam. “He’s a tricky little bastard.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep him in line.”

"And you, Romanoff," says Maria, turning to Natasha, "Steve says you're a cheerleader. Not what I would've expected, no offense."

Natasha shrugs in what she hopes is an effortlessly cool way. "I have many interests."

"Hey, I'm not about to judge. You'll look good out there." Maria grins. "And hey, you'll get to hang out on the bus with me on the way to games, that'll be fun."

Natasha's mouth falls open just slightly before she can stop it, and Bucky leans over to poke her arm. "Uh, yeah," she says, recovering quickly. "That'll be pretty cool, yeah."

"Bucky and I have an ongoing debate that you might be able to help us with, actually," Maria continues. "Who would win in a fight, Superman or Godzilla?"

"Superman, obviously,” says Bucky, rolling his eyes.

“Please. Godzilla has atomic breath, no way Superman could withstand a concentrated blast of that.”

“He could fly out of the way, he’s flown faster than the speed of light before.”

Before she can help herself, Natasha snorts. “Didn’t peg you for a comics nerd, Barnes.”

“She brought it up first,” says Bucky, looking a bit embarrassed.

“I like Superman,” Steve chimes in. “I mean, I’ve only seen a couple of the movies, but I like what he stands for.”

Natasha nudges him. “You would, Boy Scout.”

Sam laughs. “Were you actually a Boy Scout, Rogers? ‘Cause that would make a lot of sense.”

“Not for very long,” Steve replies, rolling his eyes at Natasha. “She just thinks it’s funny. I was in a troop for a couple years, but my ma got kind of nervous when I mentioned I had a crush on Tommy Cooper in the seventh grade. She said liking both boys and girls was okay, but the Scouts didn’t think so, and I didn’t want her to worry about me more than she already did, so I dropped out.”

“Oh, that’s sad,” Sharon says, making a sympathetic face. “I was a Girl Scout for a while and I _dated_ one of my fellow Scouts and nobody cared. I mean, we were fourteen so ‘dating’ was basically awkwardly holding hands and sitting together at lunch, but still.”

“Aw.” Maria smirks. “How precious. But Nat here never answered my question. Superman or Godzilla?”

Natasha blinks. “Uh, Godzilla,” she says. “He’s basically a giant radiation monster, right? He could just _outlast_ Superman.”

Bucky sighs. “Et tu, Brute?”

“Whiner,” she replies cheerfully. Their food arrives and for a few minutes there’s just the frantic sounds of food being shoveled into mouths. Casually, Natasha offers Maria some of her fries, and Maria takes her up on it. “The Black Widow sharing food,” she teases. “Never would’ve guessed it was possible.”

“Is that another rumor Dottie started?” Natasha asks, trying to sound like she’s not bothered. “I hope you know she exaggerates everything.”

“Oh, that’s not part of it, no. I just assumed.” Maria dips a fry in ketchup. “And I figured they had to be. Hell, you haven’t even dated anyone since she flipped her shit at you, right?”

Natasha tries very hard to keep a neutral expression. “Not really.”

“Well, that’s a damn shame.” Shaking her head exaggeratedly, Maria adds, “There’s gotta be at least one girl who’s not scared of the Widow. I’m not.”

Steve makes a noise that sounds very much like laughter, but he manages to turn it into a cough. Natasha glares at him.

Meanwhile, Bucky glances over at Steve, almost shyly, and says, “Hey, if you want, you can have the rest of my fries. I’m full.”

Maria snorts. “You? You’re a sentient vacuum, Barnes. I’ve never once heard you say the words ‘I’m full’.”

“Well, it was a pretty big thing of fries,” says Sam, snickering.

Bucky resolutely ignores them and pushes the basket toward Steve. “Gotta worry about calories now,” he says with a sly grin. “At least, if your coach is anything like ours.”

“Well, he’s not wrong there,” Sharon agrees. “Seems like this one will never stop eating.” She nudges Sam affectionately. “My family had a barbecue last week and I swear he ate a whole cow himself.”

“Blame Coach,” says Sam, grinning. “Something’s gotta fuel this six-pack.”

Steve laughs along with the others, but he also glances up and meets Bucky’s eyes as he takes a fry. Satisfied, Natasha reaches over to steal a fry of her own. She’s not really still hungry, but it’s the principle of the thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have read exactly one Superman comic and seen exactly one Godzilla movie, so feel free to take that entire section with a huge grain of salt.


	3. Chapter 3

“Mind if I sit here?”

Steve glances up from his sketchpad and blinks in surprise. “Hi," he says, trying to pretend like Bucky didn’t startle him. “No, uh, go ahead. Plenty of room.” He shoves his duffel bag onto the floor. “I mean, now there is.”

Bucky laughs. “Thanks. Nice of you to make a space for me.” He sits down. “Whatcha doing?”

“Nothing, I, uh.” Steve flips the sketchpad shut. “I draw sometimes.”

“No shit? Like that stuff I see up in the art room? Lemme see.” Bucky reaches for the sketch pad, then pauses. “I mean, if you don’t wanna show me that’s okay…”

“No, no, it’s fine. Here.” Steve flips it open to the page he was working on, a humanoid robot. “I just mess around, mostly,” he says, almost as an apology. “Think up things and then I play around with the design.”

“Damn.” Bucky gently takes the sketchbook when Steve offers it to him. “You mind if I look through some other pages?”

“Go ahead. Like I said, there’s not really a purpose to most of it.” Steve nods at a page with a monkey on a unicycle that Bucky pauses at. “That’s from when I was in _Oklahoma!_ last year. I’m not much for the stage, as it turns out.”

“Oh my god, I didn’t realize that was you,” says Bucky with a laugh. “I thought you were pretty good though.”

“Did you?” Steve smiles. “I mean, to be honest I don’t think I’m cut out for the stage. It’s all a little artificial for me. I think Angie thinks she owes me for life now, though. She made me this amazing pie after our last performance, and sometimes when we run into each other in the halls she asks me if I want another.”

Bucky laughs again. “That girl’s a trip. She’s at all Peggy’s games and she yells so loud every time Peggy gets the ball, I swear she’s louder than we are. Victoria looks like she wants to take her head off for it.”

“Sounds like Angie.” Steve grins. “It was fun, though. Something different.”

“Yeah.” Bucky goes back to flipping through the sketches. “You’re really good, you know that?”

Steve ducks his head. “I’ve been told a few times. Can’t really see it, I always see the mistakes.”

“Mistakes? Bullshit. These are crazy good.” Bucky looks over at him. “Hey, do you draw people? Could you draw me sometime?”

Steve feels his face getting hot. “I, uh…” Honestly, he knows _how_ to draw people, but he doesn’t do it often. It feels like too much, to try to capture the likeness of someone on a page. “Maybe. I’ll think about it. I don’t do it much.”

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“No, you don’t have to apologize!” says Steve quickly. “It just feels more...I don’t know, I feel like if I did draw a real person I’d worry about making it look exactly like them, and if I made someone up I’d feel responsible for them. It’s weird, I guess.”

Bucky smiles. “That’s deep, Rogers. You a philosopher or something?”

“God, no.” Steve laughs. Then, before he can convince himself it’s a bad idea, he says, “I bet you’d be a great model though?”

“Yeah?” Bucky strikes an exaggerated pose. “We talkin’ clothes on or off?” The instant he says it he looks at Steve, his expression almost guilty. Like maybe he’s said too much.

Which, he kind of has, because now Steve’s mind is going all sorts of places it really shouldn’t be. But he does his best to ignore it and smirks. “I can take whatever you give me, Buck.”

From the seat behind them, there’s a loud snorting noise that’s abruptly cut off, and then some whispering. Steve glances over his shoulder to see Natasha and Sam with their heads close together, giggling. He glares. Natasha beams innocently at him.

“So,” Bucky says, handing him back the sketchpad, “we never did get _your_ answer to that question. Superman or Godzilla?”

“I mean, Superman, obviously,” says Steve. He’s not just saying it because of Bucky. Mostly. “Even if Godzilla got him, he could come back. What, has he come back five times now or something?”

“At least.” Bucky grins at him, and Steve can’t help but grin back.

\---

The Lions have played two home games so far, which has mostly involved Steve watching and cheering from the bench. He got to play the last quarter of last week’s game when Rumlow twisted his ankle, which was exciting, but he didn’t do much more than try to tackle a guy twice his size and get dragged halfway down the field for his troubles. There might have been some laughs from the stands. But since Rumlow’s still recovering (it turns out he’s just as arrogant as he seems, and was back out trying to train three days after the game), Steve won’t be benchwarming today. He’ll be the running back.

They’re playing the Xavier High Wolverines, who are apparently fairly formidable. At least Coach Phillips seems to think so. “You’re gonna get your ass beat!” he says to Steve after their locker room huddle. “And if you don’t, it’s gonna be a damn miracle. Erskine said take a chance on you, and Rumlow’s out, so I’m gonna give you this one, but whatever you do, don’t get cocky. That’s how you end up a pancake.”

“Yes, sir,” says Steve, nodding.

Sure enough, the Wolverines look like they mean business. Steve puts on his best game face and ignores the way the players seem to be snickering to each other when they notice him, at the back, during the coin toss. He’s nervous, of course, but he’s not about to let them know that.

Sam flashes him a reassuring grin when they get in formation. The plan for this first down is for Steve to get it and just sprint, and Peggy, Dum Dum and a few others will cover him. Steve swallows the lump of anxiety in his throat and smiles back at Sam, determined not to let his friend down.

Then the ball is in his hands and he’s just running like his ass his on fire, and it might be on fire, honestly, he can’t tell. Or maybe his shoes? He’s having trouble focusing on anything but putting one foot in front of the other and holding onto the ball, which is why it’s such a surprise when something slams into him at full force and he goes flying to the ground.

It takes him a second to remember how to breathe, which is made even more difficult by the fact that the guy who tackled him feels like he weighs at least twice as much as Steve. But after a second the weight is gone and he can breathe, and then Sam is there looking down at him yelling _you okay?_ and he’s not really sure how to answer that. But he manages to ignore his body’s twinges of pain from where it met the ground and staggers to his feet after a second, giving a thumbs up. Sam looks relieved, and then there’s no time to think anymore, it’s time for the next play.

It begins to feel like he will always be doing this, running and then being tackled, so it comes as a genuine surprise to him when he looks down for a second and sees the endzone line fly by under his feet. He slows to a jog, trying to keep from falling on his face from the momentum shift, and holds up the ball triumphantly.

There’s a roar, and it takes him a minute to realize it’s coming from the stands. He jogs back out to where the rest of his team goes to meet him, grinning, and a couple of them slap him on the back (he has to brace himself for that) and then they go to do it again, and Steve feels better than he’s ever felt in his life.

\---

“So you must be feeling pretty proud,” teases Natasha. It’s halftime, and she’s been waiting for an agonizing fifteen minutes to talk to Bucky about Steve’s touchdown.

He narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Your guy. Steve. The touchdown.” Natasha speaks slowly, like she’s talking to a child. “Hell, I’m proud of him for not getting his ass kicked, you must be over the moon.”

Bucky glances away and smirks. “I’m not talking to you about him.”

“Oh, you’re not, huh?” She grins. “I saw you staring at him the whole time.”

“About that,” snaps Victoria, striding over. “Barnes, I know you almost forgot to catch me earlier. And I know it was because you were staring at Steve Rogers. I don’t care what you get up to on your own time, but if the rest of us who are dating people in sports can keep it together while they’re on the field, you have no excuse.”

“We’re not-”

“Either way,” she says, rolling her eyes. “If you fuck up and I get hurt because of it, I’ll make your life hell.” She tosses her hair and storms away.

“You were being kind of obvious,” agrees Natasha, almost apologetically. “I mean, I get it, but watch yourself. Steve would hate to know someone got hurt ‘cause you were too busy staring at his ass.”

“I wasn’t staring at his ass,” protests Bucky, but he’s grinning. “Mostly. Also, I’d better not have to give you this same talk when we start doing girls’ soccer.”

“What?”

“Maria,” he says, clearly glad to change the subject onto _her_ not-so-secret crush. “You’re into Maria Hill.”

She purses her lips. Shit, she’s been too obvious. “How do you know?” she asks coolly.

“We’ve only known each other for like a month, but I feel like I’ve seen enough of you to know when you’re acting weird. You act weird around her. You get, I dunno...shy. Plus you gave her half your fries that time we all hung out after practice and I _know_ you hoard your food like a starving animal.”

“That’s kind of a rude comparison.”

“You like her,” he says, undeterred. “You should ask her out. I wouldn’t have thought that would scare the badass Natasha Romanov.”

“I’m not scared,” she insists. “I just...don’t wanna be weird. We’ve only hung out a couple times and when I text her it’s mostly about like, homework.”

Bucky grins. “Oh, so you guys _text_.”

“Don’t make it weird, it’s not weird.” She narrows her eyes. “Besides, _James_ , you’re one to talk. When are _you_ gonna ask Steve out? He’s practically got an invisible sign saying JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES PLEASE ASK ME OUT.”

“Full name, really? I knew telling you about that was a mistake.” He sighs. “I’ll think about it. But only if you do too.”

That makes her laugh. “What, you want me to spit in my hand and we’ll shake on it?”

“Jesus, Romanov, where do you get this shit? No, that’s disgusting. Why are we friends?”

“You have no one to blame but yourself, Barnes.”

\---

Of course, the Lions don’t emerge with a flawless win. The teams are pretty well-matched, and the Wolverines manage to eke out the win, though only by a few points. But the Lions are rowdy anyway, high on the game like they always are afterwards, and Steve feels swept up in it all even more than usual. Coach Phillips, for once, doesn’t look disgusted with his existence, and Sam throws an arm around him in the locker room and tells him he kicked ass at least five times. Peggy’s also beaming at him, and even Rumlow, who emerged from the stands once the game was over to join his team, looks slightly less inclined to make a nasty comment.

They pile onto the bus, chattering excitedly, and when Steve climbs the stairs he sees Bucky sitting by himself a few seats back. “Hey,” he calls, sliding in next to him. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” says Bucky with a sly grin, “I was waiting for some jackass who got a touchdown to show up or something. Guess you’ll do.”

Steve snorts. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“I’ll just have to live with the pain.” Bucky’s quiet a moment. “Listen, uh, I was wondering…”

“Yeah?” Steve’s heart starts thudding, the way it did while he was running.

“D’you maybe wanna go see a movie tomorrow?” Bucky asks, not meeting Steve’s eyes. Like he’s just as nervous as Steve is.

There’s a roaring sound in Steve’s ears and it’s all he can do say, “Yeah, yeah, that’d be cool. You live over on Simone, right?”

“Yeah. You wanna meet at my place and just catch the bus to the theater?”

“Sounds good.”

Behind them, Steve hears the distinct sound of hands slapping together in a high five, and makes a mental note to send Natasha a disparaging text about eavesdropping later.


	4. Chapter 4

Since it’s mid-September, most of the movies that are out are August leftovers and Oscar bait that neither of them has any particular interest in. Luckily, the second-run theater on the edge of town is still showing  _ Jurassic World _ , which both of them have already seen and don’t mind doing so again.

“The thing about this movie,” says Bucky while they’re in line, “is that it’s kind of shitty, but also there are dinosaurs.”

Steve bobs his head in agreement. “Dinosaurs make up for a lot.”

“Were you one of those kids that watched these nonstop? I was.”

“I saw them as a kid, yeah. Not over and over, but enough. I liked the animatronics. Ma always thought they were too scary, so she didn’t want me watching them if she was in the room.”

“My mom didn’t like ‘em either. Rebecca, my oldest sister, she liked ‘em, but Esther and Abby would cry once the dinosaurs showed up. So Rebecca and I used to have to wait till after the little ones went to bed.”

“I didn’t know you had sisters,” Steve says.

Bucky grins. “Yeah, they’re pains in my ass, but I can’t imagine not having them around. My dad died pretty soon after Abby was born, so it’s just been Mom and the four of us for nine years.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I mean, I’m used to it.” Shrugging, Bucky adds, “We don’t talk about him a lot, but we visit his grave around the holidays and stuff. Rebecca and I remember him better than the other two, but we know he loved all of us.”

“Funny story,” says Steve, “my dad died pretty soon after I was born too. I guess he was in the military and there was some kind of accident. Ma doesn’t like talking about it, but I found some articles.”

Bucky smiles sadly. “Well, aren’t we a pair.”

“Sure are,” says Steve, returning it. “Well, on a less sad note, d’you want popcorn or anything? I’ll get it, since you’re getting the tickets.”

“What a gentleman! Sure, I could go for popcorn.”

They settle into the back of the theater with the giant tub of popcorn between them. It’s not an empty theater, but they do seem to have the back rows to themselves. “I should’ve asked you before,” says Bucky, “but are you one of those guys who hates commentary during movies?”

“Only if I’ve never seen it before, or if I’m trying to pay attention,” Steve says with a grin. “Here, talk away. I’ll probably join

you.”

So they do, snickering as they murmur jokes to each other about the characters’ bad decisions and impractical outfits. They’re mostly quiet during the dinosaur scenes, though. During the chase scene with Grey, Zach, and the Indominous, Bucky bumps his hand up against Steve’s. Steve, of course, takes the hint and rests his hand on Bucky’s. They’re not quite properly holding hands by the end of the movie, but they are still touching.

When the credits roll, Bucky turns to grin at Steve. “Have fun?”

“I did,” says Steve, returning Bucky’s grin. “You’re a pretty good movie-watching partner.”

“Aw shucks. You’re alright yourself, Rogers.” Bucky glances around. “You wanna, I dunno, go somewhere else to hang out? I dunno how dates are supposed to work, honestly.”

“I don’t think there’s a specific date formula,” teases Steve. “But yeah, let’s find somewhere with shitty burgers.”

They end up at the McDonald’s a few blocks from the theater, sharing a couple of large orders of fries and scarfing down burgers. “So you said you don’t know how dates work,” Steve says. “Have you ever been on one before?”

Bucky laughs nervously. “I mean, kinda? Like I guess maybe I went out with this one girl as a freshman. She asked me out and we like, had lunch I guess. It was awkward.”

“Ah.” Steve nods. “So this is new to you too, huh?”

“Too? What, you mean Steve Rogers has never been on a date?” Bucky’s grin gets even wider and he adds, “If I’d have known that, I would’ve taken you to a better joint than this.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever, it’s not a big deal. I just hadn’t found anybody I wanted to ask out yet. I’ve liked people, but I dunno. Never felt like putting myself out there that much.”

“Well, I’m honored.” Bucky puts his hand over Steve’s again. “You’re pretty cool.”

“I could say the same for you,” says Steve, smiling. 

\---

A couple hours later, they make their way back towards home, holding hands on the bus the whole way. They’re both giddy, joking around with each other just like they have been before, but there’s an undercurrent of nervous energy between them. When they get off the stop near Bucky’s house, Bucky says shyly, “Well, uh, thanks. That was really nice.”

“Thank  _ you _ ,” says Steve, awkwardly putting his hands back in his pockets. “Uh, you want me to walk you home?”

Bucky smirks. “There you go with the gentlemanly shit again. You’re making me feel like a lousy date, Steve.”

“I’ll let you pull out my chair for me at lunch,” teases Steve. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

When they arrive in front of Bucky’s building, he pauses. “I’d invite you up for a minute, but I’m sure the girls would swarm you, and you don’t want that.” 

Steve laughs. “They sound okay. But I should be heading home for dinner. Ma might worry.”

“Yeah.” Bucky hesitates as if thinking about something, then leans forward quickly to peck Steve on the cheek. “Uh, bye,” he says, grinning sheepishly as he turns to go.

“Bye!” Steve calls, unable to keep the grin off his own face.

\---

Natasha’s laying around pretending to do homework, but mostly fucking around on her phone. Typical Saturday evening stuff. She and Maria have been texting off and on all day, mostly just about stupid irrelevant shit, and she just got one from Steve about how his date with Bucky had gone (pretty well, judging by the string of emojis). She sends him a thumbs up and then goes back to the screen with Maria’s texts. 

Maria’s shocked that she’s never seen a Tarantino movie, but then, Natasha’s a little startled that Maria’s never been to a live ballet performance.  _ Not even the Nutcracker with your mom or anything? _

Maria’s answer pops up a minute later.  _ My mom is more of a rock concert mommy-daughter date person. You can’t seriously be surprised by this. _

_ I guess not, it’s just...the agency pushed me into ballet because they thought it would make me more appealing or whatever. I forget other people didn’t grow up like that. _

_ Sorry, Romanov. Didn’t mean to bring up a sore spot for you. You should come over sometime, we’ll watch Kill Bill. You’d like it. _

Natasha sits up and stares at her phone. Another problem of growing up fairly self-isolated means that, even though she hates admitting it, she’s basically terrible at telling whether a girl is just being nice in a friendly way, or in a flirty way. (Or, most likely, in a pitying way.) She waits a minute before responding in what she hopes is a casual way:  _ Sure, yeah, sounds fun. Just you and me? _

_ Well, yeah. I don’t wanna share you with anybody else. ;) _

Before she loses her nerve, Natasha texts back,  _ Yeah, I like having you all to myself. _

_ Ooh, is the Black Widow into me? Should I be worried? _

_ I told you, that nickname’s not accurate. And I dunno, are you worried?  _

_ No.  _

Natasha swallows and then steels herself to do it.

_ Good, because yeah. I kinda am into you. _

Ten seconds later she panics and sends another:  _ You can totally ignore that I’m sorry if it was weird _

_ Why would I? I’m kinda into you too. _

At that, Natasha does about the the most stereotypical thing possible: she yelps and falls backwards onto the bed. It takes her a few minutes to refocus, then she responds,  _ Oh yeah? That’s gratifying. _

_ Yup. I was wondering when you were gonna make a move.  _

_ Move made. Now what? _

_ You doing anything tomorrow? It’s been awhile since I’ve been to lunch with a pretty girl. _

_ Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you? :) _

_ I don’t see you complaining, Nat. _

Not a lot of people call her “Nat” - mostly just Steve sometimes. She likes the way it feels when Maria does. 

They settle on a plan for the date - is it a date? Natasha’s honestly not sure - and then she ambles very casually out to where Fury is lounging in his big leather chair in the TV room, reading a newspaper.

“Hey, Fury,” she says, “I’m going out to lunch with a friend tomorrow.”

He doesn’t even glance up. “Okay. Don’t do too much dumb shit, Romanov.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” she says, giving him a sarcastic little salute (which he ignores, as usual).


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some liberties, since Bucky's only named sibling in the comics is Rebecca but the MCU wiki has him as the oldest of four siblings. Rebecca is 15, Esther is 12, and Abby is 9. (Unfortunately Rebecca sort of spoiled the presidential names joke so I just went with biblical names, but if you want to imagine Abby's full name is Abigail Adams Barnes I won't stop you.)
> 
> The Bucky Bear thing I just made up, honestly.

“Soooooooo,” says Natasha, batting her eyes at Steve. “How’d the date go?”

“It was nice,” Steve says, tossing a fry into his mouth. Considering his other hand is in Bucky’s, “nice” is probably an understatement.

“What’d you do?” asks Sam, who’s grinning in an evil sort of way.

Bucky shrugs. “Y’know, went to a movie. Had shitty fast food. Hung out.”

“Is that all?” Natasha teases. “You two are sure cozy.”

“We walked around a little,” Steve says casually. “Just normal date stuff, I dunno.”

“And did you do _anything else?_ ” presses Natasha. “Any _other_ normal date stuff?”

“Oh, fuck off,” says Bucky, grinning as he uses his other hand to flip her the bird. “Didn’t you have lunch with Maria yesterday?”

Natasha, who had not been expecting this, quickly shifts her face into a neutral expression. “How’d you know about that?”

“Steve told me,” he says with a shit-eating grin. “He said he tried dropping in on you for homework but Fury said you were out.”

“Goddammit,” mutters Natasha. “Alright, so I was. And?”

“What did _you_ do on _your_ date?”

“Christ. We went out for lunch, that’s all.” She rolls her eyes. “It was nice. That’s all you get to know.”

“After you interrogated us? Nope,” says Steve cheerfully. “What other _normal date stuff_ did you do?”

“Did you _kiiiiiiiiiisssssssss_ her?” Sam sing-songs.

“What base did you get to?” Bucky adds.

“Gross,” she groans. “I don’t know why I’m friends with any of you.”

“That means home run probably,” replies Bucky smugly, but he yelps when she reaches across the table to punch him in the arm. “Fuck, ow! I need that arm!”

“Serves you right for being gross,” she replies with a smirk.

“I picked the best table to sit at, clearly,” jokes Sharon, who’s been mostly quiet during these escapades.

“Anyway, it’s not like we’re gonna be all like, gross at school,” adds Natasha. “You shitheads are bad enough, I don’t need anybody else speculating on my dating life.”

Bucky mock-groans. “Not at _all_? How could you deprive us of something to make fun of you for?”

“Easily.”

\---

Word spreads pretty fast, and by the time Steve gets to football practice that afternoon, Rumlow’s already greeting him with “So I hear you’ve got a new _boyfriend._ ”

Steve glances around and, spotting Peggy standing nearby and Sam talking to Coach Phillips on the other end of the field, decides to try for pleasantries first. “Yeah,” he says, nodding. “That’s not gonna be a problem, is it?”

Rumlow sneers. “Long as you don’t make it a problem, shrimp. Figures you couldn’t even get one of the girl cheerleaders though, you had to settle for Barnes.”

Steve opens his mouth to reply, but Peggy is already storming over to grab Rumlow’s arms and twist them behind his back. “If you think I’m going to stand here and listen while you spew vile homophobia all over this field, you have even fewer brains in your head than I thought,” she hisses in his ear. “And I think Principal Fury might have a few things to say about it as well.”

Rumlow squirms, but is unable to get out of her grasp. “God, calm down, it was just a-”

“If you finish that sentence you’ll quickly find yourself well-acquainted with the finer points of the turf,” she snaps. “Apologize. Now.”

He sighs. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry, now lemme go?”

She huffs, but releases his arms. “You don’t sound remotely sorry, but I hope this has been educational for you.”

He scampers off and she turns to Steve. “I hope that was alright. I thought perhaps you could use someone a bit, ah, larger who would talk to him in a language he understands.”

Steve chuckles. “That’s totally fine, I, uh. Thank you. It all kind of took me by surprise.”

“Unfortunately nothing new for our friend Brock,” she sniffs. “He thought it was grand fun to go after me when I first joined, as the only girl _and_ the only non-heterosexual. A black eye soon convinced him otherwise.”

“Well, it seems like you’ve got it handled pretty well.”

“Does it bother you?” She sounds less sure of herself now. “The mockery? Just because you’re not with the kind of person they think you should be with?”

He shrugs and replies, “I mean, it’s not fun, but I’m okay. My Ma always told me that it doesn’t matter who I love, somebody’s always gonna be unhappy about it for one reason or another. So I gotta figure out whose opinion actually matters, and fuck the rest. I mean,” he adds with a grin, “she didn’t say the last part quite like that, but y’know.”

Peggy laughs. “She sounds like a wise woman. I try to do that as well.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’ve got your back too,” he says with a smile.

“Thank you, Steve.”

Then Coach blows the whistle and they’re off running laps, and Steve puts everything out of his mind except the feeling of the air ghosting along his arms and the pleasant ache in his legs.

\---

They’ve been “together” for about two weeks when Bucky says, “So my mom wants you to come over for dinner.”

Steve tries to pretend that doesn’t startle him as much as it does. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, she’s…” Bucky runs a hand through his hair and laughs. “She says she wants to meet ‘that nice boy you keep going out with.’” He makes his voice cartoonishly high-pitched. “Plus my sisters keep bugging me about it too. I dunno. Is that too much too soon?”

“I mean...I guess not, it just caught me off guard,” admits Steve. “Not like a fancy dinner, right?”

“God no.” Bucky laughs. “Mom wouldn’t know what to do. Probably just spaghetti or a casserole or something. You can wear whatever, she won’t care.”

But of course, Steve is already doing a mental check of his closet, trying to figure out which of his non-T-shirts are most appropriate when meeting one’s boyfriend’s family. (Boyfriend? Is it too soon to use that term?) “Okay,” he says. “When?”

“I dunno, how about Thursday night? Then if it’s horrible we can hang out on Saturday away from my family,” teases Bucky.

“Sounds good.”

Friday night comes, and Steve’s in front of Bucky’s building wearing one of his blue checkered button-ups, which Ma says makes him look “distinguished.” (Natasha says it makes him look like a grandpa, but considering she only ever wears shades of black and occasionally red, she really can’t talk.)

Bucky comes down to get him, smiling a bit nervously. “Hey. So, uh, Abby’s basically bouncing off the walls and won’t quit singing ‘Steve and Bucky sitting in a tree,’ just so you know.”

Steve just laughs. “How old is she?”

“Nine going on three,” sighs Bucky. “Sometimes she’s fine, but she likes embarrassing me. You know, typical little kid stuff. Rebecca’s probably gonna interrogate you too. Wants to be a lawyer, which means she thinks annoying everyone with questions all the time is fine.”

“It’s okay,” Steve says with a grin. “I always kinda wanted siblings.”

“You want these?” jokes Bucky as they head up the stairs. “I can give you a two-for-one deal.”

Mrs. Barnes meets them at the door with a wide smile. “You must be Steve! Come in, please, you can leave your shoes there by the door.”

“Hi, Mrs. Barnes,” Steve says, smiling back. “Thanks. I brought, um, some cookies.” He holds out the paper plate filled with chocolate chip cookies. He’d wanted to make them himself, but Ma had stepped in to help after he tried to use the mixer and got flour everywhere. Still, he’d had a couple and they were pretty good.

“Oh aren’t you sweet! And you can call me Winnie if you’d like.” She takes the plate from him as he shyly takes off his shoes. “We’re almost ready to eat, so you and Buck can go sit in the living room. Don’t mind our clutter, this apartment’s lived-in.”

“Doesn’t bother me at all, ma’am,” Steve says, grinning. Bucky heads for the living room and Steve follows him.

No sooner has he sat down than a little girl is leaning on the armrest of the chair, staring at him. “Hi! You’re Bucky’s boyfriend, right?”

“Abby, get out of his face,” scolds Bucky. “Go play with your DS or something.”

“I can’t,” she says, speaking very slowly as if Bucky’s an idiot. “I’m waiting for Eevee to evolve and he can’t until nine o’clock. Duh.”

“Oh, he’s finally evolving? Good.” Bucky grins.

“Yeah. It took us long enough.” She turns back to Steve. “So are you? He talks about you a lot.”

“He doesn’t talk about him _that_ much,” says another voice, and Steve glances up to see a another girl, a teenager, leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed. “But more than usual. Hi.” She waves. “I’m Rebecca, that’s Abby. Esther’s helping Mom with dinner, it’s her night.”

“Hi,” says Steve, smiling. “Um, Abby, I don’t really…” He glances at Bucky, uncertain.

“Abby, you shouldn’t even know what a boyfriend is,” Bucky says.

“I’m almost ten, of course I know what a boyfriend is!” scoffs Abby. “I don’t want one yet, but my best friend Keisha says when she’s older she’s gonna have seven boyfriends, one for each day of the week.”

Steve laughs. “Well, that’s one way to do it.”

“Abby, go help Mom set the table,” says Rebecca, coming over to herd Abby out of the room despite her protests. Once she’s gone, Rebecca looks at Steve again. “So,” he says, voice low and eyes gleaming mischievously, “ _are_ you his boyfriend?”

Again, Steve looks to Bucky for help. He doesn’t want to overstep or assume anything.

Bucky groans. “Do you have to be so goddamn nosy?”

“Yes. It’s my job as your oldest sister.” She perches on the arm of the couch. “I promise not to tell anyone else, I just wanna know.”

“Okay, fine. Yes, he’s my boyfriend. Are you happy now?”

“Aw,” says Steve, grinning playfully. “Thanks.”

“Did you just decide that right this minute?” Rebecca continues.

“No. I mean, we hadn’t...dammit.” Bucky sighs. “I’m sorry, Steve. This is why you should be glad you don’t have siblings.”

Rebecca, looking smug, replies, “You love us. You know you do.”

Steve just watches, amused, as Bucky flips her off and she counters with her own middle finger. “You see,” she says to Steve, “this is how he treats his own family. It’s not too late to back out.”

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea what I’ve gotten into,” jokes Steve, winking at Bucky.

Winnie calls them to dinner a few minutes later, and Steve’s eyes widen when he sees just _how_ much food she’s made. Aside from the pasta and spaghetti sauce, there’s garlic bread and salad and a bowl of baby carrots and alfredo sauce and…

“We eat a lot around here,” says Winnie, almost apologetically, when she notices Steve’s expression. “But you won’t go hungry!”

“No,” says Steve, still in awe. He notices a girl sitting next to Rebecca, slight and with hair falling in her eyes. “Hi, you must be Esther?” he asks.

“Hi,” she says quietly. “I made the garlic bread and the salad, I hope it’s okay.”

“I’m sure it’ll be delicious,” he says with a reassuring smile.

It is, of course. Steve feels much less self-conscious eating with the Barnes than he usually does, because they don’t express disbelief about how much he’s eating for someone so skinny. He has three helpings of spaghetti, trying both sauces just to see how they compare, a good amount of the salad, and five pieces of garlic bread (only after making sure everyone else has had their fill). Bucky, of course, is shoveling food into his mouth like a machine.

Winnie asks him questions about his family, his plans for the future, and she doesn’t do it in a nosy or overbearing way, she seems like she’s really interested in him. Sometimes one of the girls will interject - Abby wants to know if he plays Pokemon, and when he admits he doesn’t know much about it, she launches into an explanation that goes on so long that Winnie finally says, “Abby, you’ve been talking so long you let your food get cold! Eat some before you speak again, please.” Nonplussed, Abby shrugs and starts trying to cram as much food into her mouth as she can as quickly as she can.

Esther is the quietest of the bunch, but when Steve says to her, “This is the best garlic bread I’ve ever had,” she looks pleased.

Bucky’s smiling too; Steve catches him sometimes, watching him. He barely even reacts when Abby, having finished her dinner, says “Lemme show you something, Steve!” and bolts off.

It turns out to be a well-worn teddy bear that she holds up triumphantly. “Bucky sleeps with this,” she says, smiling deviously as only a nine-year-old can.

“Abby, put him back!” grunts Bucky around a mouthful of pasta.

“Abigail Barnes, you know better than to go in other people’s rooms without permission,” scolds Winnie. “Put Bucky Bear back and apologize, and you won’t be having any of the cookies tonight.”

After Abby mumbles an apology and scampers off, Steve turns to Bucky and murmurs, “Bucky Bear?”

Bucky looks embarrassed. “He was...my dad got him for me when I was a baby. Called him Bucky because he looked like buckskin, apparently. Then when I could talk, I decided I liked it too, so it stuck.”

“Aw.” Steve smiles. “That’s adorable.”

“Steve,” interjects Rebecca, “what’s your Hogwarts house? Mine’s Ravenclaw.”

\---

“So,” Bucky says, pausing at the door to his building, “that wasn’t so bad, right? You seemed to be doing pretty well.”

Steve shrugs. “You think? I wanted them to like me.”

“You kiddin’? I’m expecting my mom to badger me about the wedding for a week.” Bucky laughs. “She loved you. The girls did too, even if they gave you a hard time. I think Abby wants you around even more than I do.”

“High praise,” says Steve with a grin. “They were nice. Your family’s nice.”

“I mean, they’re a pain, but I love ‘em,” says Bucky. He glances at the ground. “Um, thanks for coming. D’you still wanna hang out on Saturday? I mean, if you’re not too tired from the game.” He grins.

“Sure, sure. You could come over and meet _my_ mom. We could watch a movie or whatever.”

“Cool.” Bucky hesitates, looking at Steve like he’s trying to decide whether to do something, and Steve looks back at him, until suddenly Bucky’s holding his cheek and they’re kissing and Steve forgets how to do anything but feel.

When Bucky pulls back, he looks a little nervous. “Uh, was that okay?”

Steve’s temporarily forgotten how to talk. “Yeah, yeah,” he finally stammers. “That was, that was really good.” He’s grinning and probably blushing. Dammit.

“Okay, good. ‘Cause I’ve kinda been wanting to do that for like a week but I didn’t know...y’know.” Bucky flashes him a shy grin. “Night. See you tomorrow and stuff.”

“Yeah, see you,” says Steve, waving, because he wasn’t already being the biggest dork about all this.

But since Bucky’s still smiling as he turns to go back upstairs, he doesn’t seem to mind.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Natasha's dress](http://www.frenchnovelty.com/mm5/graphics/78666-Jovani-Formal-Dress-S14.jpg), [Maria's dress](http://www.promadvice.com/.a/6a00e54fb463ef88330154358e6e72970c-800wi), and [Angie's dress](http://g01.a.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1.P9hIFXXXXbPXpXXq6xXFXXXj/Sparkly-Purple-Cap-Sleeve-Homecoming-Dress-with-Beaded-Vestido-De-festa-Curto-Graduation-Dresses-Short-Cocktail.jpg).
> 
> Also, again, my school was weird and had weird homecomings so it's possible I have screwed up details in this chapter.

“Ugh,” grunts Natasha upon seeing the cheerful banner declaring HOMECOMING IS COMING! hanging across the hallway. “I hate everything about this. It’s four goddamn weeks away, do they have to advertise it now?”

“Aw, don’t be a grump,” teases Bucky. “It’s kinda dumb, but some of the themes are okay. Game day is pajama day!”

“I seriously doubt they want me coming to school in boyshorts and a shirt, which are my pajamas,” replies Natasha.

“I can think of one person who wouldn’t mind that,” says Steve, grunting when Natasha cuffs him on the arm. “I’m just saying! Your girl would like it.”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “You wouldn’t know.”

“Actually I got treated to an overly detailed description of what she likes girls to wear in bed once,” says Steve with a smirk. “ _ Mostly _ only in the actual sleeping sense.”

“Oh really?” She raises an eyebrow. “How did  _ that _ come up?”

“You know, I don’t remember,” Steve replies lazily. 

“That’s a little disquieting,” she says, but she’s smiling. “I’m still not doing it.”

“What, no leather pajamas?” teases Sam. “I’d think you would have some of those for stuff like this. Can’t ruin your image, after all.”

Natasha sticks out her tongue. “I do own non-leather clothes. I just don’t wear them around you bozos.”

“Oh,  _ I _ see how it is,” says Bucky, mock-offended. “We’re not your  _ real _ friends.”

“Nope,” she replies cheerfully. “Sorry you had to find out this way.”

Bucky puts his hand over his heart and gasps dramatically. “Oh the humanity! I won’t be subjected to this cruelty.” He casually flips her the bird as he walks away, to which she responds with her own middle finger. 

Steve rolls his eyes fondly. “I’m thinking about asking him to the dance,” he says.

“Okay.” Natasha’s automatically wary.

“But I don’t know how.”

“I  _ guarantee _ you I am the wrong person to ask about this, Steve.”

He looks so earnest she almost feels bad for saying so. “I’ve just never done this before,” he says. “I want to do it right.” 

And really, it’s sweet. Even she can admit that. “Yeah, I know, but...god, I dunno. I’m not exactly a romantic.”

“Why don’t you draw him a picture?” Sam suggests. “I mean, of you two dancing or something.”

Steve’s eyes widen. “I don’t usually draw people.”

“Yeah, but I’ve seen you drawing him,” Natasha says gently. “You’re practicing, right?”

Steve ducks his head shyly. “I was hoping nobody would notice.”

“You’re not really subtle,” says Sam with a grin. “But hey, I get it. You wanna make it look good, wanna do him justice.”

Steve nods. “Yeah. It’s, I dunno. This is all pretty new.”

“Hey, if the drawing doesn’t work out, I hear signs with puns are popular,” says Natasha with an affectionate roll of her eyes.

\---

Bucky comes up to her during the break at practice. “Hey Nat, I’m having a problem…”

“I don’t want to know about what may or may not have happened in your sex life, Barnes.”

He snorts. “No, seriously. I, um, I wanna ask Steve to homecoming but I’ve never done it before, and you know him better than I do…”

“Jesus christ, you’re like a pair of middle schoolers,” she sighs. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. Signs with stupid puns on them are popular.”

She really shouldn’t have been surprised when, on Monday morning, the first thing she sees is Bucky standing outside the school with a sign that says STEVE, HOMECOMING? I THINK WE’D HAVE A BALL! with a crudely drawn football beside the words.

Which doesn’t stop her from rubbing her forehead and groaning, “Oh my god.”

“Too much?” he says, looking a bit anxious. “I could’ve gone for a dinosaur pun but I thought of this first.”

“It’s…” She pauses. “Steve’ll like it.” That’s not untrue.

“Okay.” He doesn’t look any less anxious. She settles in to keep him company until Steve’s bus shows up.

When Steve steps off the bus, he’s holding a red folder and also looking anxious. Then he spots Bucky and grins. “You beat me to it, I guess,” he says, a little sheepishly.

Bucky shrugs, eyes flicking away and then back to Steve. “Um. Sorry, I guess. So you wanna go?”

“‘Course I do. I made you this.” Steve holds out the folder. 

Natasha doesn’t do more than glance at it, then she looks away. It’s not for her. But Bucky seems thrilled, grinning and biting his lip shyly. “Damn. When I said you should draw me, I was kind of kidding.”

“I’ve been working on it,” says Steve, too casually. “Wanted to make sure it looked good.”

“It does,” says Bucky, laughing a bit. “This is...jesus. Now I feel like I was slacking, just making you a dumb sign.”

“No, no! I like it.” Steve takes his hand. “So it’s a date?”

“Fuck yes, it’s a date!” Bucky leans over to kiss him quickly on the lips, to which Natasha teases, “ _ Gross,  _ get a room, boys!”

Bucky cheerfully flips her off as he and Steve walk off to class, hand in hand.

\---

Everywhere she goes for the whole week is incessant homecoming talk, which means Natasha’s ready to strangle someone by the time she sits down across from Maria at lunch on Friday. “Please tell me  _ you _ don’t care about this homecoming bullshit,” she half-jokes.

Maria laughs. “I mean, it’s funny you say that, I got you a rose.” She pulls it out of apparently thin air and holds it out to Natasha. “We don’t actually have to go or anything, I just thought it might be nice to do the gesture.”

Natasha takes the rose, somewhat gingerly. She’s really not used to romantic displays, and while this ranks pretty low on the list of romantic displays (they’re in the middle of the cafeteria and she’s got some suspiciously testicle-shaped chicken nuggets in front of her, after all), it’s still weird. “Uh. Thanks,” she says.

“You’re totally free to say no,” Maria adds. “I know it’s not really your thing. Hell, it’s not even  _ my _ thing, I’d just be going with one of my teammates if I didn’t have you to ask.”

“Nope,” says Natasha with a smirk. “No stepping out on me, Hill. We’re going.”

“Really?” Maria tilts her head. “I thought for sure you’d tell me to fuck off.”

“Nah, I save that for people who annoy me. That’s not you.” Natasha carefully reaches over to run her hand down Maria’s forearm. “So what, do I have to get a dress?”

Maria rolls her eyes. “Not if you don’t want to. I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Then again, you’ve never seen me all done up,” muses Natasha playfully. “That could be fun.”

“I mean, I won’t argue,” says Maria, grinning.

\---

The homecoming talk is still  _ really _ annoying, but Natasha suffers through it and takes the opportunity to annoy Bucky and Steve as much as possible. “Sooooo,” she says to Steve as they’re all walking to practice one afternoon, “going suit shopping this weekend?”

“Haven’t decided,” says Steve, in a tone that means he’s not saying any more.

Which doesn’t mean she’s giving up. “I think you’d look good in navy blue,” she purrs. “And you should get a red corsage for Bucky.”

“Hey, who says I’m not getting  _ him _ a corsage?” objects Bucky. “Or a buttonhole flower or whatever.”

“It’s called a  _ boutonnière _ , actually,” says Steve with a grin. “Don’t ask how I know that, it’s complicated.”

“Whatever. You’d look adorable with a red one.” Natasha bumps Bucky’s shoulder with her own. “The two of you will be so cute I’ll barf.”

“Promise?” Bucky asks. “And hey, don’t think I didn’t notice that rose poking out of your locker. Your lady friend ask you?”

Natasha’s mouth twitches. “Maybe. You’re gonna have to wait and see if I go.”

“You’re going,” says Bucky. “You wouldn’t dare disappoint your lady friend.”

“Oh  _ wouldn’t  _ I? It’d be the sort of thing the Black Widow would do,” Natasha muses.

Steve rolls his eyes. “You’re not gonna stand up the only girl you’ve been able to ask out in three years just to prove everyone’s point about you, Romanov. That’s not how you are.”

“You don’t know that,” says Natasha, almost defensively. 

Bucky sighs. “Whatever. We gotta get to practice, Black Widow.” He leans over to kiss Steve’s cheek. “Don’t break your head open.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Steve calls cheerfully as he leaves.

“You guys are disgusting,” Natasha says.

“Oh, we know it.” Bucky grins. “We revel in it.”

\---

The day of the big game, Steve feels a weird sense of calm. It’s not like he’s even going to be on the field anyway, since Rumlow’s ankle is fully healed, but it’s nice to be part of the excitement. Steve doodles absentmindedly as he tries to pay attention (mostly to videos, since everyone is so chatty and off-task that the teachers have mostly given up on getting anything else done today).

He doesn’t see much of Bucky or Natasha besides at lunch, and right after school he’s swept up with the rest of his teammates in warmups. In contrast to the rest of the school, his teammates aren’t talkative at all: they’re hyperfocused, as if taking their minds off the goal for more than a minute will lead to a devastating loss. Peggy winks at him as they’re all walking to the locker rooms though, and he gives her a grin in response. Sam gives a rousing speech about how he’s proud to be captain of their team and how he’s confident they can win, and they end it with a cheerful session of whooping and playful roughhousing. (Steve just tries not to get bowled over by anybody’s enthusiasm.) Then they’re walking out onto the field, or in Steve’s case, to the bench. He shrugs and makes himself comfortable.

From the bench, he can see the bleachers where the cheerleaders are sitting. He glances over there every now and then, enough to see that Bucky and Natasha are trying to be good and sit still and only succeeding for about five minutes at a time, after which one of them turns to whisper something in the others’ ear or poke their arm. Steve’s not that close with the other relief guys, and they seem to be watching the game pretty closely anyway. He can’t help but with he was sitting with his friends.

The game picks up significantly toward the end, when Jack Thompson gets bowled over by a guy who’s at least twice his size, and for a minute no one can really see what’s going on but there’s a nasty  _ pop _ sound that even Steve and the other relief players can hear. Steve winces. Thompson might be an ass, but no one deserves that. 

They’ve got a bit of a lead, but not comfortably, and the loss of Thompson is concerning. There are only four minutes left. Before Steve knows it he’s being whisked out to take Thompson’s place and Sam is saying something about how he’s planning to pass the ball to Steve first, who will then pass it to Peggy, and Steve’s barely blinked once before he’s running and turning around to catch the ball and then running again, as if his life depended on it, and then he sees Peggy ahead of him and throws it to her, and he means to stop running at that point but his forward momentum sends him careening onto the field instead. 

So he really doesn’t know  _ what _ happens until he hears the cheering from the stands, and manages to stagger to his feet. Peggy’s made it - of course she has - and everyone is cheering and the buzzer sounds and they’ve won.

The next thing he knows, someone is crashing into him and putting their arms around him and  _ oh, _ it’s Bucky, of course, but he wasn’t quite prepared for it so the first thing he does is try to squirm away. Bucky laughs and says, “Hey, where you goin’? Just trying to be cute and shit.” Steve stops struggling and laughs too, and then Bucky’s mouth is on his and he stops thinking about anything for a minute. 

Later, Natasha tells them both about how apparently Angie also ran out to kiss Peggy, how there were some “parent complaints” about “deviant behaviors” displayed on the field, and how Fury told them in as professional a manner as possible that they were cordially invited to go fuck themselves. Bucky laughs till his stomach hurts and Steve can’t stop smiling.

\---

“You can’t be surprised by this,” Sarah Rogers says, clucking her tongue fondly at Steve. “My son is  _ finally _ going to a school dance, it’s my job to take a hundred pictures.”

Steve grins. “I know, Ma. I warned him already.”

“Oh, please, like his mother’s not doing the exact same thing.” 

Bucky arrives not two minutes later and Steve buzzes him up, checking to make sure the boutonnière he got is still sitting in the vase by the door. “Hey,” he says when he opens the door. “Got you something.” 

“Aw, geez, funny coincidence,” says Bucky, grinning and holding two identical flowers.

“No shit! Um, I mean,” says Steve, glancing over his shoulder to where his mother is rolling her eyes fondly. “C’mon in.”

“Nice to see you again, Bucky,” says Sarah with a fond smile.

“Ms. Rogers,” Bucky replies with a grin. “Um, one of these is for you.” He thrusts the two flowers at her, a bit overeager.

Sarah chuckles. “I’ve told you, Sarah is fine. And it’s lovely! I’ll grab a vase for it and then I want you boys to come and stand in over here in the living room.”

Steve rolls his eyes fondly. “C’mon, Buck, let’s get the pictures over with.”

Bucky actually seems to be into the pictures, gladly letting Sarah pose him and Steve in more and more ridiculous ways until Steve laughs and says, “If we don’t leave right now we’re gonna miss the bus, Ma.”

“Alright, alright,” sighs Sarah, but she’s smiling. “You two have fun now. Call me when you’re on your way home.”

“We will,” says Steve, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before they rush out the door.

\---

“Don’t come back pregnant,” calls Fury sarcastically, as Natasha waits near the door for Maria to knock on the door.

“Joke’s on you,” she replies, “I’m already pregnant and I’m planning on delivering in the bathroom.”

“Well, don’t expect me to change any diapers” is his only response, and she smirks.

She fiddles with her phone until the knock comes, and then opens the door, trying not to seem nervous. “Hey,” she says, but it comes out even less cool than she means it to when she sees what Maria’s wearing.

It’s probably not even that fancy of a dress, but it’s flowy and girly and shit and it shows off her shoulders and it’s the  _ exact _ color of Maria’s eyes and Natasha swallows. “Holy shit, Maria.”

Maria grins. “You’re not looking so bad yourself, Nat.”

Natasha does her best to recover, glancing down at her own dress like she’s never seen it. It’s black and has leather accents and a sheer skirt, and it’s probably the only dress she’d ever be okay with wearing. “Seems like we both clean up pretty nice,” she teases.

“Seems like.” Maria grins. “I didn’t get you a corsage or anything, sorry.”

“Shit, was I supposed to do that?” Truth be told, Natasha went back and forth on it for about five minutes before deciding it was stupid and a waste of money. She assumed Maria would feel the same.

“Nah, we’re gonna have fun either way, Romanoff.” Maria offers her arm. “Ready?” They’re taking Maria’s car, because Natasha hates driving.

Natasha takes Maria’s arm and smiles. “Let’s go, Hill.”

Steve and Bucky are already there when they arrive, with matching adorable red boutonnières. “Jesus,” snarks Natasha, “are you assholes trying for the Cutest Couple award or some shit?”

“Yes,” Steve deadpans.

“And you guys look all glammed up,” replies Bucky, eyes glinting. “Have you ever worn a dress before, Nat?”

“Fuck you,” she responds cheerfully. 

“Hey now,” says Sharon, coming over with Sam in tow, “no brawling at homecoming.”

“She started it,” yelps Bucky.

Sam laughs. “You guys are ridiculous. C’mon, Sharon, let’s go dance.”

“Have fun arguing,” calls Sharon in a sing-song voice as they head for the dance floor.

Natasha rolls her eyes. “You’re an asshole,” she says to Bucky.

“Never said I wasn’t!” he replies. “Hey, Steve, let’s dance.”

Steve snorts and follows him, Natasha’s middle finger sending them off. It’s a fast song, and Steve does his best to not look too ridiculous (he’s never had much internal rhythm). Then after a couple minutes, it switches to a slow song and he must look visibly relieved because Bucky says, “What, not a fan of dancing?”

“It may come as a shock to you that I don’t have a lot of dancing experience,” jokes Steve, stepping closer and putting his arm around Bucky’s shoulders. “Swaying back and forth is a little easier, anyway.”

“What, Steve Rogers bad at something? I thought I’d never see the day!”

“Oh, shut up.” Steve grins. “You’re way better at this than me.”

Bucky laughs. “Yeah? You wanna know why? You can’t tell anyone.”

“I wouldn’t.”

Bucky leans in close and whispers in his ear, “My mom made Rebecca and me take ballroom dancing lessons a couple summers in a row, in middle school.”

That’s such a surprise that Steve laughs a bit. “Never would’ve guessed,” he says quietly. “Not that it’s a bad thing. One of us has gotta be good at dancing, otherwise this whole thing would just be pointless.”

Shrugging, Bucky says, “She always said it was so I could impress my prom date in high school, so I guess it worked, kinda.”

“Prom’s a long way off,” teases Steve. “You’re making a lot of assumptions, Buck.”

“Well,  _ excuse _ me,” says Bucky with a grin. “You planning to run off and find some other cheerleader? Getting bored with me?”

“Never,” says Steve, pulling him closer so their foreheads touch.

“Good,” Bucky says softly. “‘Cause I’m definitely not bored of you, either.”

\---

Phil Coulson, last year’s Homecoming King, taps the microphone a little nervously. “Ah, hello,” he says, waving awkwardly to everyone. “Melinda and I are here as your former King and Queen to pass the torches, so to speak.” He chuckles, glancing at the woman at his side, who seems both reluctant to be here and amused by his awkwardness. Melinda May went to Penn State with a full ride soccer scholarship and, honestly, everyone’s a little shocked she came back for Homecoming of all things.

“I didn’t realize she was here,” Maria muses. “I should go say hi before she slips off again.”

Natasha glances at Maria. She’s not  _ really _ jealous, but - okay, she is a little. “Just as a teammate, right?” she asks, trying for jokey.

Maria rolls her eyes fondly and runs her hand down Natasha’s back. “Don’t freak out, Romanoff, she was the former team captain. Besides, I wanna show her the hot piece of ass I got since she left,” she adds mischievously.

“Oh  _ I  _ see how it is,” scoffs Natasha. “I’m just arm candy to you, huh?”

“Pretty much,” agrees Maria, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. “Sorry you had to find out this way.”

Meanwhile, Phil has been doing shtick about the honor of being on Homecoming court and representing your classmates and blah blah blah Natasha is bored. She basically dozes off when he announces the first prince, whose name she doesn’t recognize, but when Angie is a princess she grins and actually claps for her. Angie is wearing a ridiculous purple dress with a poofy skirt and probably a thousand sequins, which would look terrible on anyone else in the world but somehow suits her perfectly. She grins and waves at the crowd and blows Peggy a kiss as Melinda puts one of the tiny princess tiaras on her.

Then Phil calls out, “And your second prince is...Steve Rogers!” and Natasha’s so shocked she almost forgets to clap. Steve looks about the same level of shocked, walking up to receive his crown as if he’s just woken up from a very long, disorienting nap. He gets a good amount of applause, but none louder than the enthusiastic whoops from Bucky, Peggy, and Sam.

Victoria’s the second princess, which surprises no one, and for once she doesn’t look pissed off, just pleased. Phil lets a dramatic hush fall over the crowd before he announces, “And your Homecoming King this year is...Sam Wilson!”

Pretty much the whole room cheers, because everyone, popular or not, likes Sam, and Sam ambles over to let Phil crown him, grinning. Phil shoves the mic in his face for a speech, and he says, “Hey, thanks, guys. This is pretty great. To my teammates, I couldn’t do any of what I do on that field without you. And Sharon, girl, you know you’ll always be my queen.” There’s an  _ awww _ as he hands the mic back to Phil, and Sharon, who followed him to the front of the crowd, winks at him.

Phil hands the mic to Melinda, who doesn’t look thrilled about having to use it, but who says dutifully, “And your Homecoming Queen is...Pepper Potts!”

Natasha  _ does _ clap for Pepper. Pepper’s on the the student council as well as the squad, and popular because she’s driven but likeable, so it’s no wonder she’s Queen. She joins the group onstage with all the grace and poise expected, and when Melinda passes her the mic, she says, “Thank you all. What an honor. I am truly privileged to represent my fellow seniors, in this as well as in student government, and I hope that I can continue to bring about positive change throughout the year.” There’s more applause, and then Coulson grabs the mic and says, “Congratulations, everyone! Now the, uh, yearbook would like to get some photos of the royal couples together, so if everyone could scoot back a bit and give them some room, it’ll just be a moment.”

Sam and Pepper obligingly pose as if they were actually a couple, but their grins betray how silly they find the whole thing. Natasha notices that Pepper’s date, Tony Stark, who is mostly popular because his dad is a tech bigwig, is sulking. She rolls her eyes. He really has no place to be jealous, since before he and Pepper got together he dated - or “dated” - at least half their class. But then, maybe he had his eye on the crown.

Victoria pastes on a smile for pictures with her partner, who looks for half a second as if he’s thinking about getting handsy, but a particularly withering glare from Victoria has him moving his hand from around her waist to her shoulder. Angie and Steve are giggling too, but since they were love interests in  _ Oklahoma! _ they’re at least semi-used to physical contact. Angie whispers something in Steve’s ear and points to where Peggy and Bucky have their heads bent close together, snickering.

Once pictures are all done (including a slow dance, which she actually took a few pictures of herself, for blackmail purposes) Natasha sneaks through the crowd so she can meet Steve, Sam. and Angie. “Hey, congratulations,” she says with a genuine smile. “You guys deserve it, even if it’s stupid.”

“How dare you talk to your king like that,” says Sam cheerfully. Then he puts on a silly voice and adds, “One million yeeeeears dungeon!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” snickers Natasha. By this time Bucky. Peggy, and Sharon have joined them, and Sharon leans up to kiss Sam. “Gross,” groans Natasha.

Sharon rolls her eyes. “Like you haven’t already kissed your girl tonight.” 

In point of fact, they’d snuck off to make out once already and Natasha had been planning on doing it at least one more time, but she makes a face at Sharon. “Not in  _ front  _ of other people.”

Bucky’s grabbed Steve’s hand and is beaming at him. “So, a prince, huh? I feel like I gotta go kill a dragon or some shit to be worthy of you.”

“I thought the prince was supposed to slay the dragon,” says Steve, smiling. “But I guess if you want to do that for me, I wouldn’t complain.”

Angie giggles. “Good thing we’re not competing for cutest couple, or you two would give me and Peg a run for our money.” 

Peggy, rolling her eyes, says to Steve and Sam, “Congratulations, you two.”

Sam grins. “See,  _ she _ knows how to treat royalty.” He nudges Natasha, who whacks him playfully in the arm.

They all get involved in some conversation about yesterday’s game that Natasha doesn’t really care about, and Natasha tunes them out until someone taps her on the shoulder. Startled, she whirls around to see Maria and Melinda standing behind her. “Oh! Hey,” she says, trying to play it cool. She doesn’t really care what Melinda thinks, but she also doesn’t want to come off like a jumpy idiot.

“Hey,” says Maria warmly. “This is Melinda. I was just telling her about you.”

Melinda gives her a small (but genuine) smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” says Natasha, nodding a greeting. “You’re at Penn State, right?”

“Yeah. It’s interesting. We haven’t started the season yet, it’s about two weeks off. You’re a cheerleader, right?” Melinda’s eyebrow is ever so slightly raised. “Wouldn’t have guessed.”

Natasha shrugs. “Long story. It’s something to do.”

“I get that.” Melinda pauses before nodding at Maria and adding, “This one’s a handful, but she’s one of the best. Be good to her.”

“I will.” Natasha feels like she’s promising something bigger, because Melinda’s ridiculously intense, even here, in a nondescript black dress surrounded by absurd, vaguely ocean-themed decor. 

“So, hey,” says Maria, “it’s stupid, but you still owe me a dance.”

“Oh, do I?” Natasha smirks and raises an eyebrow.

“Yes.” Maria grabs her hand and drags her toward the dance floor, calling “Later, Mel!” over her shoulder.

\---

“So,” murmurs Bucky into Steve’s ear, as they’re taking advantage of the final slow dance, “this was pretty nice.”

“But not nice enough for you to keep your hands off my crown,” jokes Steve. It’s stuck in Bucky’s hair, a little lopsided since he hadn’t bothered to really adjust it since the initial theft.

Bucky laughs. “C’mon, I slayed the dragon! That makes me a prince too, right?”   
  


“I think it makes you a prince consort,” replies Steve, “but that’s only if we get married and I’m not sure my Ma is ready for me to have that conversation with her yet.”

“C’mon, my mom basically thinks of you as her son-in-law already,” Bucky says playfully. “You’ve made the fatal mistake of being super charming and nice in front of her.”

“Oh no, your mother loves me. Clearly I should rethink my entire life.” Steve smiles. “My mom likes you too, y’know. She wouldn’t stop badgering me until I promised you were coming inside earlier.”

“Well, good. I pride myself on being parent-friendly.”

They dance in silence for another minute or so, and it seems like the song is winding down when Steve says, “Thanks for coming with me, Buck.”

“Aw, ‘course,” says Bucky, a little bashfully. “What, you think I was gonna let you go with anybody else? Nah.”

Steve chuckles. “You know what I mean. I’m a lucky guy.”

“Well, takes one to know one,” says Bucky, pulling Steve close for another kiss.


	7. Bonus Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set before the story proper, Angie's attempts to spy on Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically, I needed a way for Natasha to suspect Bucky was into boys, and Cassie suggested Angie see him flirting with a boy in the cafeteria. Then it spun into this whole thing where she snuck over to spy on him, which was mentioned in the first chapter, and I found the idea so charming I had to write it even if it didn't fit into the actual story. Consider this a deleted scene of sorts.

“Hey,” Angie says, nudging Peggy, “look at that.” 

“Hm?” Peggy glances up from her sandwich. “What am I meant to be looking at, exactly?”

Angie points as discreetly as she can. “Bucky’s hitting on some guy!”

Peggy looks where Angie is pointing. Bucky Barnes does appear to be  _ talking _ with a boy, although it’s difficult to tell anything else about him (Bucky’s facing them, they can only see the mystery boy’s back, and he’s wearing a generic blue hoodie). “How do you know he’s flirting?”

“Look at the way he’s standing. He’s definitely leaning like he wants to kiss that dude.” As Angie’s talking, Bucky reaches up to run his hand through his hair. “See? He’s touching his hair,  _ that _ means he’s nervous!”

“Darling, you should perhaps learn your social cues from places other than magazines,” says Peggy fondly.

Angie scoffs. “Whatever, I’m totally right. Who do you think it is?”

“I think it’s not really any of my business who Bucky is  _ talking _ to,” replies Peggy, smirking.

“You’re no fun,” sighs Angie. “I’m gonna go investigate!”

“Must you?”

“I must,” says Angie with a wink, grabbing her lunch tray. Peggy laughs and shakes her head as Angie stands up and, much too casually, ambles over toward the lunch line.

She grabs a cookie and an apple (they balance each other out) and then turns to go back to Peggy. But she deliberately takes the long way around, to try to get a look at whoever Bucky is talking to. She’s seen every episode of Veronica Mars twice and the movie four times, this should be easy.

She’s mere feet away (Bucky’s not making it easy, he’s standing  _ right in the way of the mystery guy’s face _ ) when, too busy concentrating to notice, she trips over a discarded milk carton and goes flying. The yelp she lets out is less Veronica Mars-esque and more like a startled animal.

Angie’s fully prepared to meet the linoleum face-first when suddenly a pair of very strong arms catch her and hoist her up. “Hey, you okay there?” asks none other than James “Bucky” Barnes.

Because she is dedicated to her mission, the first thing she does is whip her head around looking for the mystery guy. But it’s like he was never there - he’s vanished. “Dammit,” she mutters before glancing back to Bucky. “I mean, I’m fine! Totally fine. Just, y’know, clumsy ol’ me.”

Bucky laughs. “How can you be so coordinated you can do that dance class of yours and then trip over your own feet when you’re just walking around, Martinelli?” He retrieves the lunch tray and the apple (the cookie, apparently, has followed the mystery guy into the ether) and hands them to her.

She shrugs in an  _ aw shucks _ kind of way, hoping it’ll throw him off the scent. “Just my talents, I guess. Um, thanks for catching me.”

“Anytime,” he says, and then leaves before she can ask him any more questions. 

“Wait!” she calls, but he’s not listening. She frowns. Well, she should at least go get another cookie while she’s over here. (Maybe two. One for Peggy.)

When she finally sits back down, Peggy raises an eyebrow. “Well, Ms. Mars? I saw your flying leap into his arms. Was that part of the investigation?”

“Ha ha,” says Angie, making a face (but also offering her one of the cookies). “Bastard disappeared before I could get a look at him.”

Peggy eats half of the cookie before responding. “Ah well, we’ll see soon enough if anything comes of it.”

Angie shoves her entire cookie in her mouth and nods.


End file.
